


Dead Boys Eyes

by Anonymous



Category: Room No. 9 (Visual Novel)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, M/M, Minor Azumi Seiji/Original Female Character(s), POV First Person, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:55:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29607009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: As the years slipped by after it happened, Kobayashi Daichi nearly managed to forget the most terrible week of his life. Unfortunately, he’d also since lost touch with the man he’d once considered his best friend.Moving on with his life was going perfectly well until he began teaching a student named Azumi Midai.
Relationships: Azumi Seiji/Kobayashi Daichi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6
Collections: Five Figure Fanwork Exchange 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shamebucket](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shamebucket/gifts).



> I hope this is to your liking! I was really taken with your post ending-D prompt in particular.
> 
> Given the very explicit and kinky nature of canon itself, I do not consider anything in this work as requiring a warning, however please be aware there are references to bad domestic home life (expressly no harm to children, however!) and also some sex work.

Moving on from the events that happened in Okinawa that summer was one of the hardest things I ever had to do.

I mean, yeah, I grew up without parents and dragged my best friend down into a normal school when he was totally above-average and deserved to go somewhere crap like me could only dream of. Sure, that stuff was hard. But stuff like that’s a lot more normal than getting kidnapped and ruining your best friend’s life.

I guess, when I think about it, I ruined my own life, too, but that doesn’t seem as important as the fact that I ruined Seiji’s. He could’ve been amazing! He was already amazing then, and if I hadn’t screwed everything up, then he would gone on to be the most amazing person ever, I know it.

Maybe we would’ve been fine if I never went to the police. All I know is, I’ll never get to ask Seiji now.

I still call his mom around the new year. She always tells me she’s heard from Seiji, but she hasn’t seen him. I haven’t seen him since the day we escaped, when I went to the police station and tried to report what happened to us. At first, I was angry at the police for not listening to me. After I got home that night, though, I was just angry at me. Of course Seiji had known better, and had known that trying to tell the police was stupid. Of course I was the stupid one who did it anyway! 

I’ve mostly managed to stop thinking that way. Or, I guess I’ve just stopped thinking about it.

I put all my energy into teaching now.

When I first started, the same year as we were kidnapped, nothing seemed to matter. Even though I was finally in a position where I could help other kids like me—kids who’d been abandoned by the adults who were supposed to take care of them—it didn’t seem like I could actually _do_ anything. I wanted to be the kind of person Seiji had been for me, and to show those struggling kids that with enough hard work and perseverance, they could overcome anything that happened to them, like I had.

Thinking those thoughts felt so dirty when I knew I’d ruined the Seiji of my life.

It didn’t feel like being a teacher could make up for those mistakes. And I was in my first year of teaching, so I made plenty more. I was actually a really bad teacher that year, who got by just doing the bare minimum and meeting expectations. No one really noticed me—I didn’t stand out as being good or bad. I was just there, existing, doing something that had always been a dream of mine like it was nothing more than a chore.

The summer holidays after my first year of teaching, I dated one of my colleagues. She was pretty, and she wore her hair cut shorter than most women those days. Best of all, she could hold her beer and still wanted to get busy at the end of the night. The first time we had sex, I couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that she was the first person I’d been intimate with since Seiji.

She broke up with me not more than two days later. She said she’d expected a lot more from me, that I’d been so cautious and hesitant and unsexy in bed. She said if that was the way I really was as a person, I might as well quit teaching now, since I wouldn’t be able to handle it for long.

Those words reminded me of the things my teachers used to say about me when I was a kid. Almost all of them had told me, at one point or another, that I should just quit trying, because I was always gonna turn out to be trash like my parents. And now, here I was, so far along the path that Seiji had helped me walk, and someone was still trying to tell me the same thing? I wasn’t going to let anyone dishonour Seiji’s efforts that way! I might have ruined his life, but for his sake, I couldn’t let down all the effort he’d put in to getting me this far.

The next year, I stepped things up: I got really involved in creating extra learning materials for my students, I kept up with all the latest teaching publications and educational research, I took charge of two different clubs in my school. I got in touch with parents whenever I saw an opportunity to improve things for their child; I always made sure I talked to them before it was too late and their kid would have to be suspended or something worse.

I got an award for teaching that year, and it only made me want to try harder. I put everything into teaching. I didn’t have time for a personal life, because my personal life was a mission to make things better for other forlorn kids.

I guess that’s when I stopped thinking about Seiji.

“New student roster, Kobayashi.”

It was two weeks before the new school year was due to start, and I was starting to get seriously into the swing of things. I never really took a break over the spring holidays any more, preferring to spend the time making sure my classroom was ready for my next group of students. To be honest, I kind of hated watching them all move on, but some of the kids who’d needed a lot of extra support always came back to see me. Whenever they came to ask for advice, it made me pleased to think I was succeeding at what I’d always wanted to do.

“Thanks, Imai.” I put the list on top of my stack of books and headed down the hallway. I always felt a little swell of pride in my chest when I stepped into my classroom, even though it was pretty empty during break. I could imagine it filled with my new students and knew I’d work just as hard as I had with all my other classes to get them ready for the rest of their lives.

I put down the stack of books and split it into a few sections based on where they were going to get put away before I settled down to look at the names of my new students. Hanabashi Ayako, Suzuno Koji, Katsumura Shiro, Azumi Midai… Azumi? 

I checked myself, blinking. Yep, it definitely said Azumi. Just like Seiji.

I pressed my fingers into my temple as I leaned back in my chair, trying to remember the last time I’d thought about him. I tried and tried, but I couldn’t do it. It must have been years. Honestly, I was a little disappointed in myself.

I shook myself free of the thought and went back to reading the list of names. I couldn’t get too far ahead of myself. Azumi wasn’t a common name, but that didn’t mean it was just Seiji’s family that had it either—there was every chance that my new student had nothing to do with Seiji. In fact, that was likely. Once I finished reviewing the list, I let the wonder leave me entirely and focused on the rest of my preparations.

In the end, it’s a good thing I stopped thinking about it, because nothing could have prepared me for Midai.

On her first day, she shouted at two other students and threw a textbook across the room. When I made her stand outside in the hallway, she kept singing to herself and tapping her foot back against the wall of the classroom. When I told her to stay inside while everyone went out for recess, she crossed her arms and glared at me.

I knew exactly how I wanted to approach this. “Azumi,” I said carefully, putting as much firm understanding in my voice as I could, “Is there something wrong at home?”

“Why do you think that?” She snapped.

I decided not to tell her off for rudeness this time. Most of my colleagues probably would have, but most of my colleagues also didn’t have the same knack I did for figuring out what was actually going on with kids. I put my hands together on my desk and told her my story the way I always did to students who seemed like they needed to hear it. “Well, you just remind me of me a little. When I was young, my parents disappeared. I was really angry for a while, and I got into a lot of trouble at school. I want to make sure that’s not something that’s happening to you.”

“Oh my parents are fine.” Midai replied blithely, “Mommy left last month, but it’s just because her and daddy don’t like each other any more. She’s gone to live with my grandpa now. She wants me to go be with her because she thinks daddy’s bad for me, but I don’t want to go, because then daddy will be alone and no one will make him supper.”

I struggled to process all that information so quickly. Trying not to let any concerned panic show on my face, I latched onto the last thing she said and asked gently, “Do you cook for your father all the time?”

“Mostly, yeah, now that mommy is gone. I leave breakfast for him in the morning but sometimes I don’t even know if he’s home when I have to go to school. It’s always been like that. He works a lot. He _says_ he works a lot,” Midai corrected, sounding very much like she’d learned to say it that way from someone else, “But he never has any money, so mommy said he was probably lying about that too.”

“That sounds pretty tiring.” The pieces were starting to fit together in my head. It seemed like Midai was struggling in the wake of a divorce following a pretty bad marriage. It didn’t _sound_ like she’d suffered any physical abuse, but I wanted to confirm, so I gave her a serious look. “Did you mother or father ever hurt you, or each other?”

“Mommy and daddy fought pretty much any time daddy was at home.” Midai nodded, as though answering my question correctly was a point of pride. “Sometimes mommy broke things when they were arguing, but she never hit me or daddy or anything. She said it was frustrating because it wouldn’t matter how hard she hit him, that would never change anything or make him good.”

My heart twinged a little. Midai had definitely witnessed some things a kid her age shouldn’t have seen, but it was a relief that it didn’t sound like she’d been directly, physically harmed. Still, it wasn’t a healthy situation for someone her age to be coping with, and it didn’t sound like either of her parents were treating her especially fairly.

I drummed my fingers on the desk as I considered the options: I could refer her to someone else, and get her home life investigated. I didn’t know if more disruption to her already unsettled life was the best choice, though. Usually, before things were too late, I reached out to the parents so I could try to fix things before they got worse.

“Azumi, I’d like to have a meeting with your father, okay? It’s not because you did anything wrong—” I hurried to add that right away as I saw her pale eyes widen, “It’s because I want to help you do really well at school. It’s important that your parents and I can work together to make sure everything goes good for you. Do you understand?”

“I think so.” Midai spoke with uncertainty for the first time since I’d started chatting with her, and I felt a little bad. She twirled a length of her long brown hair between her fingers, not meeting my gaze, “I don’t know when my daddy will be able to come...”

“Because he works a lot, right?” I confirmed; once she nodded, I gave a firm nod too. Difficult to get a hold of was something I could handle. I had a lot of determination! “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure I get him to come in. Now,” I looked at my watch and then out the window, “You still have a little time for recess, if you want to go outside. Try not to shout at anyone, okay?”

“Thank you, Mr Kobayashi.” Midai pronounced the words carefully, but forgot to bow her head before dashing out the door.

A few moments later, I watched her hurry outside into the sunshine with her classmates and frowned to myself. I wondered what her father would be like, when I finally met him.


	2. Chapter 2

After two weeks of trying, I still hadn’t managed to make an appointment with Midai’s father. I left voicemail after voicemail and never heard anything back. I started sending texts, too, even though that wasn’t really policy, because it felt important to me that we met, for Midai’s sake. I wasn’t going to get anywhere supporting her if my messages weren’t being repeated—or at least supported—at home.

For her part, Midai settled in as well as I could have expected, but managing her behaviour felt like a losing battle. She kept having outbursts and causing disruptions, arguing with other students and even sometimes with me. It was hard for me to hold it against her because I knew a little bit more about the cause, but my other students rightly found it unfair if I gave her too much leeway. Instead, I tried to have a little aside with her first thing every morning to encourage her to behave during class. I also made sure she rotated through classroom task rota quicker students usually would, so she always had a chore to complete every day.

My efforts seemed to help, but they didn’t help _enough_.

During my third week of leaving texts and voicemails for the difficult-to-get-a-hold-of Mr Azumi, Imai called me in my classroom just after all the kids had left for the day. “Kobayashi, could you come down here? There’s someone asking for you.”

I checked my watch reflexively, then my daily diary. I… didn’t have any meetings scheduled, and it wasn’t the right day of the week for club events either. Puzzled, I made my way down to the front office—there was a stranger in the room, a man in an oversized jacket who was slouching away from me as he faced in Imai’s direction. Just a moment after I arrived, the strong smell of cigarettes hit my nose, made all the stronger by the fact that smoking wasn’t allowed anywhere in the school.

I cleared my throat to announce myself, and lifted my voice, “Can I help you, sir?”

“I’m here to meet with a Kobayashi about my daughter.” The man said it as he turned around. I didn’t need him to confirm whose child was his: the moment he turned, I recognised him. “Azumi Midai.”

 _Seiji_.

There was no way it could be anyone else. He didn’t look the same as the last time I’d seen him, so many years ago (his hair was still silvery, but duller and less well-kept than I remembered; his face was thinner and there were dark circles smudging the smooth skin under the rim of his glasses; his lips looked chapped and dry and the rest of his frame was hidden within a bulkier, less cool-looking coat than I’d ever known Seiji to wear) but it was definitely, undeniably, 100% Seiji.

My heartbeat fluttered in my chest. I watched his still-beautiful grey eyes flick over me, then narrow as he crossed his arms over his chest. I couldn’t tell if he’d recognised me or not.

Imai leaned in my direction, “Kobayashi? He’s the parent you’ve been trying to get in touch with, right?”

I couldn’t just stand here staring at Seiji. I had to start talking. “Yes!” I declared firmly, straightening up and dipping my head to Seiji, the same way I would if he was any other parent. (But he wasn’t! He was _Seiji_.) “Please come with me, Mr Azumi.” I marched out of the main office without daring to look behind me, but the sound of a second set of footsteps in the hall confirmed that Seiji was following me.

My heart wouldn’t stop racing, and I was torn between wanting to laugh aloud and wanting to ask him what was wrong. Seiji, fighting with his wife? Seiji, bringing up a little girl who had trouble behaving in class? Seiji, refusing to get in touch with a teacher about his child’s well-being? It didn’t seem possible. Something was really, really wrong, and it hurt knowing that I had no idea what it was.

“I’m glad you made the time to meet with me today.” I kept talking so I wouldn’t get caught up thinking about how long it had been since we’d seen one another or spoken. “I’ve been trying to reach you for a few weeks.”

“I’m busy.” Seiji replied curtly. “I work a lot.”

“Midai has mentioned that.” I opened my classroom door for him and indicated that he should step inside. He brushed past me without looking at me and cast a gaze around the room. Then he leaned against the student-sized desk nearest to mine and pulled a box of cigarettes out of his pocket, sliding one free.

I didn’t let myself watch him place it between his lips, but before he could flick the lighter, I interrupted, “We don’t allow smoking in the school.”

“Don’t you.” Seiji’s lighter flashed with a spark, and then a curl of cigarette smoke spiralled into he air.

It surprised me how angry that disrespect made me. I’d planned to sit down behind my desk but I caught myself slamming my hands down on its surface instead, demanding the question that was burning on my tongue, “What’s _wrong_ with you, Seiji?”

The moment his name left my mouth, his eyebrows lowered together. In that instant, I knew he did recognise me. If he remembered me, why was he behaving this way? Why did he pretend he didn’t know me? Why… was he doing this? And why… did he look so dull and lifeless? Seiji took his cigarette from his mouth and exhaled a long, slow stream of smoke, replying with light sharpness, “If that’s how you speak to parents, I’m surprised you’re still teaching.”

He… I did sit down, then, using my hands on the surface of the desk to brace myself. I’d long since stopped imagining reconnecting with Seiji, but back when I had dreamed of seeing him again, I’d definitely never imagined it going like this. Something felt stony and hard and heavy in my chest, and I tried just once more to appeal to the person I’d known back then. “You can talk to me, you know, Seiji, it doesn’t have to—”

“I don’t want to talk to you.” Seiji cut me off, cigarette back in his mouth, “I’m only here to talk about Midai. So you’d better get on with it. An appointment I had cancelled, but that doesn’t mean I have all day to waste.”

Right. Okay. I was shaken, so much so that I thought my hands would tremble if I took them off the desk, so I didn’t. I dug around deep inside myself and found the part of me that had always been held up by Seiji’s light, the part of me that had turned myself into the devoted teacher I was today. And I held the image of Midai’s face in my head, pretending I couldn’t see Seiji’s any more. This was about her, and her future, and protecting her from whatever was hurting Seiji. Once I’d saved her, I could worry about saving Seiji, too.

“Midai struggles to concentrate in class. She tends to shout at other students even over minor disagreements, and she doesn’t usually complete her work without several reminders.”

“None of her other teachers have mentioned this kind of behaviour.” Seiji’s retort was bored and disaffected; he crossed his arms over his chest and continued to look at me.

I had to admit, that kind of dismissal stung. It would have hurt from any parent, of course it would, but the fact that this was Seiji made it so much harder to handle. What happened to the best friend who’d always told me that I’d make a fantastic teacher? Why was he doubting me? And after all the trouble I’d gone through to even get in touch with him, for him to just show up unannounced! Trying not to be too biting, I shot back, “Maybe they had trouble getting a hold of you.”

Seiji’s eyebrows rose, then descended as he shrugged slightly, waving one hand at me as though inviting me to continue.

I cleared my throat. “It may have been caused by a big change or conflict going on at home. The psychology is well-documented. You don’t need to tell me the details, but does that sound like a situation Midai might be experiencing?”

“My ex-wife and I got divorced a few months ago.” The way he said it, Seiji might as well have been talking about how he rearranged the furniture in his apartment or stopped in at a convenience store on the way home. It was cold and barren, so matter-of-fact that I had to wonder if there had _ever_ been any love in that marriage…

No, Daichi. No getting distracted. Like Seiji already said, this meeting was about Midai. Instead, I put on my best teacher-smile, gesturing, “That sounds like it could be part of the trigger for her behaviour. That kind of thing can impact kids a lot more than it feels like it should. What I would normally recommend to try and help her is to give her a chance to talk to our school counsellor regularly, but also to make sure there’s an established routine at home. Midai has mentioned a few times that you work a lot. Is it possible for you or someone else to be at home with before she goes to school, and at home to meet her when she comes back at the end of the day?”

Seiji took his cigarette from his mouth and rolled it between his fingers. He turned it around and looked at the burning end, then pinched it out between the tips of his fingers—it must have hurt, but his expression didn’t show that. Even the glow from the end of the cigarette didn’t seem to reach his eyes. He looked at the floor for a moment, nudging the fallen ashes with his foot and stuffing the butt into his pocket. He pocketed both his hands, then, before replying to me, repeating only, “I work a lot.”

“I understand.” I nodded; at least this was a familiar conversation I’d had with more than one busy parent before. I could repeat a few of the points I’d said to them and pretend it wasn’t Seiji I was talking to. “Could Midai’s mother be there with her, or a friend of the family? If being at home at the end of the day isn’t possible, it would at least be really helpful to have someone consistently getting her ready for school so she could arrive here ready to learn. Right now, I’m having that conversation with her when she gets here, but—”

“Hold on. You’re what?” Seiji interrupted me again, standing up straighter like he’d just been struck.

I was taken-aback. I rubbed the hair on the back of my head with one hand, explaining, “I want Midai to succeed in class, so one of the things I’ve been doing the past few weeks is taking her aside before home room starts and reminding her that she’s here to learn. She’s made up a little chant for us to agree on before class starts. It’s not enough for only me to do this, though, she needs support at home. I’m just her teacher.”

Seiji didn’t say anything in response to that, taking out his box of cigarettes again and pulling out a new one. I wondered how many he went through in a day if he smoked like this all the time. I wondered how much there was that I didn’t know about this new, different Seiji who didn’t want to remember me or us or our friendship.

He was quiet for so long that I couldn’t help myself—I threw a little more of my old faith in him out there, trying to reach the person I remembered inside those dead man eyes. “It’s not very different to what you used to do for me.”

Seiji abruptly stood up, turned on his heel and strode towards the door of the classroom.

Surprised, I clambered to my feet, stumbling after him, “Wait, please, are you going to—”

“I’ll be at home with her. In the mornings, not the evenings. I have to provide somehow.” He said the last word like it was some kind of burden, and I wondered why he didn’t let Midai go stay with her mother if it was so much trouble for him to keep her. But then, I didn’t understand parents—I’d never really had any worth talking about and it wasn’t like I had any children of my own. And if Seiji wanted to keep Midai, if he loved her and wanted to protect her, then who was I to question anything?

At least I could understand wanting to protect someone you cared about.

Seiji paused in the frame of the door and looked back at me, the new cigarette between his lips still unlit. “Is there anything else you need from me, Mr Kobayashi?”

 _I need you to call me by name. I need you to tell me what’s wrong._ My heart surged with feelings, powerful and desperate emotions I had trouble holding back. I was scared that if I let Seiji walk out of this classroom door, I’d never see him again. I was scared of losing my ex-best friend again before I’d even had a chance to get him back.

Mustering more confidence than I felt, I used my best teacherly voice to finish our conversation. “I’ll need to be able to keep in touch with you, about Midai. Will you return my calls, or at least let me email you?” Oh no, that last bit had come out a little too familiar.

I can’t say Seiji hesitated in the doorway, but he did linger there, looking me over. In the end, he took a business card out of his pocket and left it on the shelf next to the door, then departed without a further word.

I collected the business card and took it back to my desk, running my fingers over the glossy name, email address, and two different phone numbers printed on it. I noticed that neither of them were the numbers we already had on file for Seiji.

When I flipped it over, there was no company name or logo on the back—just plain grey card as blank as the look in Seiji’s eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

Midai improved, slowly but steadily. It would’ve been amazing if a whole lot of change just happened overnight—Seiji made more time to be at home in the morning and Midai suddenly became a model student, but real life never worked like that. The first improved thing I noticed was that Midai’s collar started to be pressed when she arrived at school in the morning.

I paused with her before we went into the classroom and crouched down beside her, asking, “Was your father at home with you this morning, Midai?”

She nodded, grinning brilliantly. “Yep! He even did our promise with me. I’m here to learn today, Mr Kobayashi.” Midai was almost vibrating with pride as she gave her solemn proclamation and walked confidently into the classroom.

That day, I still had to ask her to stand outside once, but even in that I noticed positive changes. When she was in the hallway, she didn’t sing or chat to herself or fidget—instead, whenever I glanced out towards her, I could see her concentrating very hard on her shoes. She seemed to be repeating something under her breath to herself, and I could tell she was trying super hard to behave. I wondered what Seiji had said to her, but I knew it wasn’t my business, so I let the question leave my mind.

As the end of the day approached, I took a minute to send Seiji an email about Midai’s progress. It was similar to emails I’d sent before, ones meant to encourage parents to continue doing the behaviour that helped their children. In fact, it was nothing like what I wanted to say to Seiji at all.

_Mr Azumi,_

_Midai’s behaviour at school today was very good. She did raise her voice once in class and was asked to stand outside, however I observed improvements in her patience and conduct while she waited there._

Conduct? To be honest, I hated these kinds of emails, because they made the kids not sound like kids. But I wanted Midai to fit into class and stop being the one who stood out, because even if she wasn’t experiencing any bullying now, I knew it would only be a matter of time if she couldn’t settle properly. I returned my attention to the email and found I didn’t have much more I could say (even though there was so much more I _wanted_ to say). With a sigh, I finished it off and pressed send.

_Thank you for your cooperation in the matter we spoke about last week. If you need any further support, please do not hesitate to let me know._

_Regards,  
Kobayashi Daichi_

I pushed my keyboard away and pulled a stack of notebooks towards me, dedicating the rest of my afternoon to giving my students feedback on their writing submissions. My monitor went dark as I worked and the afternoon sunlight in my classroom started to fade. Before I knew it, it was well past time for me to head home. I stood and stretched out my back before slinging on my jacket and making my way out through the empty hallways. I looked forward to a hot bowl of soup and an early night of sleep.

Much later, in the dark of night, my phone buzzed on my side table. I blearily swung my arm at it; I must have forgotten to turn off the vibration, but who was sending me emails or texts or whatever at… I peered as the screen rapidly dimmed from bright to night mode, and realised it was just after two in the morning.

The notification was for an email reply from Seiji.

I sat straight up. I had to tell him he was too responsible to be awake at this time of day, especially when he had a daughter to take care of! I tapped the button to open the email and read his reply.

_Thank you for the update._

_Azumi Seiji_

If that… was what he called replying to my emails, then he was going to hear something about it! My fingers rapidly punched into the buttons, but not fast enough to outrace my waking brain. It reminded me that I didn’t know what Seiji’s job was; maybe he worked long, late shifts in a factory or was a night security patrol officer. It didn’t sound like Seiji, but it could be true. I didn’t know this distant, parental Seiji as well as I had known my friend Seiji.

And we weren’t friends any more, if what he’d said was true, _and_ it wasn’t my business. I hadn’t asked for a schedule of his life or an update on his life story or anything… plus, I had just told him I wanted replies. His answer let me know he’d received my email, so surely that was an improvement on the noncommunication of not so very long ago.

With an irritated sigh, I thrust my phone away and burrowed back into my futon.

Outside of her father’s attention, there were two major factors that helped Midai improve rapidly and significantly.

The first one was the approach of the late spring school festival. Midai wasn’t an organiser or a planner, but she quickly proved to be someone who got things done (just like her father had always been, I thought to myself). As far as the festival went, she wanted to help with absolutely anything she could, and once the older students caught onto the fact that she had a seemingly limitless supply of energy, they started asking her for a lot of assistance.

Midai seemed to flourish in a position of being needed. It made me proud of the fact that I’d started her off working on classroom chores at a quicker pace that the rest of her class, because she seemed to thrive with a task at hand. I watched her stand up straighter, listen more attentively and wait patiently to be given instructions. It was a good feeling.

The second one was when Kurosawa Yufumi joined our class.

When she arrived, Yufumi was probably the most emaciated kid I’d ever seen in school. She was shy, almost to the point of seeming unable to speak to her fellow students, but she was always clean and tidy and never arrived late. I overheard some of my colleagues mention that she had an unusual home situation, but I never got a chance to talk about it personally with her, because from the moment Midai saw her, she decided Yufumi was her friend.

Unlike the overall improvement in Midai’s behaviour, her friendship with Yufumi did seem to happen practically overnight. Yufumi looked at Midai like she was the sun in the sky, and Midai laughed loud and long enough for both of them to be happy. To be honest, I found it a little bit hard to watch, because it reminded me so much of when Seiji and I had been younger. Midai (like Seiji) was the strong, bright one, helping the hard-done-by Yufumi (like me) to gain some confidence and become stronger.

It made my chest hurt, a little.

As the day of the festival drew ever nearer, Midai was busy telling Yufumi that our class was going to have the best café in the whole school, because they’d both be there making sure everything got cleared away so no one saw anything dirty or bad. The last part of the phrase came out of her mouth a little like how she’d previously recounted things her mother had said, which really made me want to wonder what in her life was bad and dirty. But I had to ignore that, waving to the girls with a grin as I approached their desks to ask, “Are your parents going to be coming to the festival?”

Yufumi flushed and bunched her hands together in skirt under the desk. Midai patted her shoulder, looking carefully at her and saying, “You can tell Mr Kobayashi. He’s the best teacher ever.”

I tried not to get too distracted by Midai’s praise, even though it made my heart swell up, because Yufumi was clearly working herself up to say something. In the end, her words came out small and quiet, but with firmness I was proud of her for achieving. “My parents won’t be able to come, but my big brother will instead. If that’s alright, sir.”

“Of course it is.” I nodded once, offering her an encouraging smile before I turned my attention to Midai, “What about your father?”

Her expression faltered a little, but she spoke clearly, without a waver in her voice. “I told him it was happening, but he said because it’s during the day he’ll have to work.”

That twigged my memory somehow… hadn’t I received a text from Seiji at an ungodly hour of the night? But if he was working during the day… just how much did he work? Surely it wasn’t healthy! And if Midai’s mother had such bad things to say about him and their money situation… It made me start to worry all over again.

“Mr Kobayashi?” Midai sounded like she was repeating herself, “Do you think you could ask my daddy to come?”

“Oh.” I grappled with my tongue before it could make me say the first thing that came to mind, which was _‘Why do you think he’ll listen to me?’_ I was her teacher, and I couldn’t let her down like that! Besides, Seiji had already managed to change his work habits for Midai’s sake because I’d asked him to, so maybe… I gave Midai a bright smile, nodding firmly. “I’ll ask him. But remember, Midai, even if he can’t make it, you’ve still done a lot of good work. I know a lot of other classes are really grateful for your help and you should be proud of that.”

“Okay.” She said it blithely, with a contented grin, and then took Yufumi’s hand, tugging her away, “Let’s go out into the yard, Yufumi!”

Yufumi didn’t get a chance to say no, but I knew that if she was anything like me, she wouldn’t have it any other way.

The morning of the festival dawned crisp and cool, but as the sun crawled into the sky, it promised to become a warm, comfortable late spring afternoon. As usual for festival days, I was super-busy; I ran back and forth between two different club displays before I got a chance to settle into my homeroom’s own café, welcoming the families who came by to see what our class had accomplished during their first term. After this, it wouldn’t be very long until summer break started.

Midday came and went before I started to worry about whether or not Seiji would come. Midai’s spirit seemed unbroken—owed in no small part to Yufumi’s unwavering presence beside her, I thought—but I didn’t want to see her weeks and months of hard work undone over a significant but avoidable disappointment like this.

As the middle of the afternoon approached, I went to my desk and took the business card Seiji had given me out of my top drawer. The raised lettering was so shiny, and I ran my fingers back and forth over it, wondering what the right thing to do was. He’d answered my email, but without promising that he would attend. All I knew was that he’d read it, and now both me and Midai had asked him to come. Whether or not he did was up to him. Calling him probably wouldn’t make a difference. But would it? How could I know unless I tried?!

By the time I’d made up my mind to give him fifteen minutes more, the crowds were really starting to thin out. I watched Midai and Yufumi together wave to a tall, bespectacled man with dark hair who I’d overheard was Yufumi’s big brother. The family resemblance didn’t seem too strong to me, but I’d seen plenty of kids who looked pretty different to their parents, so it didn’t seem that weird to me.

I made sure to go around the classroom and praise all my students before any of them started leaving for the end of the day. Our café had been a great success and it wasn’t fair to them if I was extra-distracted by Seiji today… I had to be there for them, just like he had always been for me. I couldn’t remember him ever taking a day off from supporting me. Maybe that was why he hated me so much now.

It was a painful thought, so I pushed it away and waved as Ayako excused herself for the evening. If Seiji didn’t hurry up, there wouldn’t be anything left for him to observe…

And just like that, he slouched through the door. He looked… well, just as bad as the last time I’d seen him. Maybe even a little bit worse, if I was being honest. But Midai’s eyes brightened up like fireworks the second she saw him and, all decorum aside, she bolted across the room to fasten her arms around his legs. I think everyone could hear the joy in her voice when she exclaimed, “You came!”

The expression on Seiji’s face when he stroked Midai’s hair made my chest ache again. It was like just for a second, he transformed into the old Seiji I’d loved and admired so much. The light filtered back through his hair and glinted in his eyes, the glasses melted away, and the dark marks under his eyes faded to perfect cream skin. I caught myself wanting to embrace that Seiji, just like Midai was, and I had to turn away.

I busied myself with my desk while Midai brought her father around to eat and introduced him to her friend Yufumi. I tried hard not to hear Seiji laugh when Midai told him she wanted to do a festival next week, too, and if she couldn’t, then she’d make one at home over the summer break. All I did was make sure I could be near the door when Seiji excused himself and started to leave, so I could speak to him in the hallway. By then it was almost private because so many other students and parents had already been and gone.

I straightened my back in my best teacherly manner and gave him a deep bow. Before looking up, I said, “Thank you for making time to attend today, Mr Azumi. I know Midai really appreciates it.”

I thought it hurt the sore part of my chest just saying that, but then I looked at Seiji on my way up.

Seiji was frozen in place with shocked bewilderment plastered across his face, one hand halfway into the pocket where I thought he kept his cigarettes and his other in the pocket on his hip. He shook his head gently from side to side before hurriedly sliding a cigarette from his case and placing it between his lips, muttering a reply, “It’s good to see her doing well.”

“That’s all thanks to you.” I affirmed, moving myself to bow again. It made the heavy thing in my chest tumble and twist uncomfortably, but Seiji stopped me before I did it, pushing his palm into my shoulder before I could complete the gesture.

“No, it’s not. You’ve been good to her as well. I…” He faded off, then fished a lighter out of his pocket. I heard the sound of a phone buzzing somewhere on his person, and Seiji sighed. He met my eyes, and I thought there was a flicker of brightness in them that I hadn’t seen the last time we’d spoken. “Thank you for supporting her, Daichi.”

It felt like something exploded inside me. I wanted to hug him all over again, to thank him for taking me back (even though I didn’t know why he’d thrown me away in the first place), to just be grateful we were friends again… but he withdrew his grip and turned away without saying anything else, sliding his mobile phone from another pocket as he went.

Maybe it was a moment, maybe it wasn’t. But as a teacher, I had to say one last thing, “There’s no smoking in the school, Mr Azumi.”

Just before he pressed his phone to his ear, Seiji looked back and me and took the cigarette out of his mouth, saluting me with it.


	4. Chapter 4

Up until the start of summer break, Seiji answered all my emails about Midai in less than 24 hours. It was nice—even though we were only ever communicating about his daughter through this weird, formal, teacher-to-parent veil, it felt like I was finally getting to have him back again, just a little bit.

Midai signed up for a program where even though holidays were going on, she got to come to the school three days a week for club meetings. Okay, they weren’t clubs the same way normal term-time clubs were, but it was something the school did to help busy parents who needed somewhere to send their kids during the holidays if they didn’t want to (or couldn’t) leave them at home. I was glad to see that Yufumi showed up for that club, too, since the two of them were such good friends. I definitely spent more than a couple mornings watching their delight through my classroom window as they ran around together in the bright summer sun.

The weather started getting more and more muggy, which always threatened to remind me of Okinawa. It wasn’t a place I really liked to think about if I could help it, but as I sat behind my desk and watched a bead of condensation run down my glass of water, I caught myself thinking about Seiji. I wondered if Seiji ever thought about Okinawa, or if he’d ever gone back there.

I wondered if he’d have a beer with me, like old times.

Since school wasn’t in session, I hadn’t had any reason to email him in a while. Besides that, emailing always felt forced and distant… not like how I wanted to talk to Seiji at all. Before I realised it, I had his business card out in my hand again, with its two phone numbers and mysteriously plain grey back. The longer I held it between my fingers, the more the weird pain in my chest swelled up, until it felt like a solid thing that might have been choking me. I didn’t know what I was feeling. It might have been fear. It might have been longing.

I flipped open my mobile phone and dialled the first number listed under Seiji’s name. It didn’t even ring—it just went straight to voicemail, the automated voice punctuated briefly by Seiji announcing his name. I pressed to hang up and tried the second number instead.

This time, it rang. On the third ring, someone what was definitely not Seiji answered; his voice was brusque and direct, “What is it?”

“Um.” I stammered, before quickly barrelling onward. I’d come too far to back down now! “Could I speak to Seiji please?”

“What you wanna _speak_ with him for.” The man on the other end laughed, loud and way too pleased with himself. It didn’t sound like a question the way he said it. “He’s busy just now. You got an appointment?”

I remembered Seiji mentioning appointments. Maybe he was a hairdresser, or something like that? It didn’t explain why he was up late that one night… or why the hair on the back of my neck was starting to stand up. I didn’t like the sound of this guy, and why was he answering Seiji’s phone anyway? Narrowing my eyes, I tried to sound confident, “Yes, I did have an appointment, but I need to see him right away, actually, is there anything you can do about that?”

The man guffawed so loudly I almost pulled my phone away from my ear, then asked, “You willing to share a slot?”

I didn’t think. I just spoke. “Yes. Can I see him now? It’s very important.”

“I’m sure it is.” The man sounded smug; something muffled the sounds coming from wherever Seiji’s phone was and I could only hear the vaguest sense of conversation, without being able to make out any words. Finally, the man came back and confirmed for me, “You’re all set. Bring the usual cash and I’ll collect you at Seibu Shinjuku in forty-five minutes. Wear a red cap and answer that the sun rose quickly this morning.”

Then the line went dead, leaving me to stare at it with my mouth hanging slightly open. Was… was Seiji really… ? No! I wouldn’t believe it! I wasn’t going to make any assumptions until I heard it from Seiji himself, and I was going to find out _right now_. Or, at least, in the next hour.

Hurrying to my feet, I looked around desperately as though the answers to the questions whirling around my head would appear by magic. Did I even own a red hat? How much cash did I need? What question was I supposed to be answering anyway? I shook my head; this was crazy! I wasn’t going to solicit Seiji for anything! I was just going to talk to him.

No, I owed him more than that—I was going to get him out of this mess, one way or another. I had to. I owed that much to the best friend I’d always loved.

I had to take deep breaths as the train rolled into Seibu Shinjuku. I wasn’t scared, really, just… energized. It finally felt like I could do something to make up for everything Seiji had always done for me. Resolved, I stepped off the train with a stream of other passengers and looked around from beneath the brim of my brand new red baseball cap.

A wide-looking man in a big black jacket was smoking and loitering near the exit to the station. As I approached him, I peered towards the business card he had clenched between two fingers—it looked like Seiji’s, even from a distance. When he caught me looking, he raised his voice and I recognised that it was him I’d been speaking to earlier, “It was a slow one this morning, wasn’t it?”

This whole business with Seiji was helping my mouth get ahead of my brain a lot more than usual. The words that left me were positively breezy, concealing any despair or confusion I might have felt, “No, the sun rose quickly this morning.”

The man gestured with one hand and I fell into step beside him, my hands stuffed into my pockets to make sure they didn’t start to shake. I could feel his gaze studying me, but he didn’t speak until we were off the main street, down an alley I didn’t recognise. I didn’t know this part of town very well at all. “You don’t look like a usual. I know you?”

“No, you don’t, but Seiji gave me his card.”

The man raised a suspicious eyebrow and stopped in front of me, extending a hand. “Show me.”

I’d never been so grateful for my habit of just shoving things in my pocket when I was in a hurry. I extracted Seiji’s card and smoothed it out between my hands, holding it up for him. He reached like he was going to take it and I had to make myself give it to him, even though my heart screamed that it was Seiji’s and he’d given it to _me_ , and this man couldn’t have it.

The man probably had more, just like the one I’d seen at the train station. This card wasn’t special to him.

Shrugging, he handed it back. He continued to lead me down a maze of alleys, eventually stopping in front of a grey metal door. Before we went in, he put his palm out. “Payment up front.”

I’d stopped at a bank before I’d come, but I didn’t know how much I was supposed to pay. I didn’t even know what I was paying for! I was starting to think I could guess, but I didn’t _want_ it to be true.

The way I saw it, I had two options, and only one of them made sure I got to see Seiji now. I pulled everything out of my wallet and stuffed it into the man’s hand; I didn’t know how much it was for sure, but it was at least ¥500,000. I’d told my bank I was looking at buying a car.

“Big bonus.” The man whistled low between his teeth, tucking my money away and unlocking the door. He swung it open to let me go in first. “You must be pretty into the guy.”

My heart pounded as I stepped into a tiny concrete room. When the man came in behind me and pulled the door shut, there was barely room for both of us to stand comfortably. He indicated the curtain drawn across an entrance, and I stepped through it. My mouth was totally dry.

There was Seiji. Kneeling, with his head between a man’s legs. With a collar fastened around his neck. With a chain leash in the man’s hand. Completely naked, and bruises peppering his back.

I was rooted to the spot, but my tongue could still move. “S… Seiji.”

Seiji’s head turned and for just an instant, I saw fury erupt across his face. I tried not to see the string of come dangling from the corner of his mouth. He hissed low, “What are you _doing_ here?!”

The seated man tugged the chain and dug his fingers into Seiji’s hair, pulling him back to what he was doing. He didn’t speak to Seiji, though—he spoke to me. “Wait your turn. You’re the shared slot, right? Learn some manners.”

How someone who was… who was forcing my best friend to suck him off could tell _me_ to get some manners was just!! It was! I was so angry I couldn’t speak, so I took two steps forward and laid my hand on Seiji’s shoulder. A bolt like electricity went through me when I touched his bare skin, and I murmured, “Come on.”

Seiji rolled his shoulder to dislodge my hand, but he didn’t look at me again. Instead, he ran his tongue up his client’s dick and called over to the other man. “Nagatsuka, get him out of here.” 

“Already paid.” The man who’d let me in, who I now knew was called Nagatsuka, didn’t move from where he was standing. Did Seiji try to… throw clients out often? Was I a client now? My mind raced. What was I even doing here? What did I think… how could I save Seiji from this when he wasn’t even going to let me help him?

“Give him half back, then.”

“I’m not paying extra if you ruin this, Seiji.” The seated man grumbled, redirecting Seiji’s head again.

I watched a smile slide across my friend’s face—a wild smile, one that seemed calculated to make him look irresistible. Despite myself, I felt a spike of heat shoot through my core and I quickly removed my hand from his shoulder in case he could sense it somehow. Me getting turned on wasn’t going to help Seiji at all.

Unencumbered, Seiji purred his reply against his client’s erection, “When have I ever ruined things for you, Suwabe~?”

The man laughed and then groaned as Seiji took him back inside his mouth. Nagatsuka finally decided it was time for me to go, but as I felt his bulk approaching, I turned away from the scene on my own. He took me back outside, where the warmth of summer sunshine felt cold on my skin. I hadn’t realised I’d gotten goosebumps.

He reached into his pocket and withdrew a handful of bills—the scant amount he passed to me was no more than ¥75,00, but I couldn’t care less. He turned me around and pointed, saying only, “Station’s that way. Get out of here.”

It was probably stupid. I stuffed my money back into my pocket, took off the hat, and sank down to sit on the concrete next to the door. The door that led to where Seiji was, and what he was doing, and what I hadn’t managed to save him from. Nagatsuka gave me a long, hard look, but in the end, he went back through the door without saying or doing anything else.

Seiji’s client left after another fifteen minutes. He went on his way so smoothly that I don’t think he even realised I was still there. A minute later, I realised there were a pair of shoes standing before me.

“What the hell are you doing here, Kobayashi?” There was venom in Seiji’s tone.

I looked up: he was wearing a sleek navy blue jacket over dark brown slacks now, and his face was clean. I could only tell that what I’d seen was real because of the light red marks around his neck, where the collar had been digging in. I was shaking as I rose to my feet, but I didn’t know what emotion was filling me up. All I knew was that it would overwhelm me if I didn’t say something soon. I was filled with the urge to hit Seiji, or shake him, or kiss him, or _something_.

I didn’t think he’d wait for me to figure it all out, so instead I mumbled a response. My voice was quieter than I wanted it to be. “I was worried about you. I came to help you.”

“You?” There was a second of silence between us—the kind of silence that felt really heavy and powerful, like right after a gun gets fired. Then laughter cracked out of Seiji’s lips. I stared as I watched him laugh harder and harder, until tears streamed from the corners of his eyes. When he finally spoke again, though, it was obvious he was angry—the expression in his eyes was like daggers made of ice. “What makes you think you could do anything to help? You’re the one who did this to me.”

I—what?

White noise exploded in my head. Something was ringing. I didn’t know. Words crumbled apart in my mouth and then mushed together into nonsense. I don’t know what I said. I don’t even know if I said anything.

Seiji grabbed me by the collar, twisting it as he brought his face close. “Don’t tell me you forgot about Okinawa, Daichi.”

Seiji’s hands on me. Seiji’s mouth on me. Seiji’s body under mine. Seiji’s agony. Seiji’s pleasure.

The memory of it burbled up inside me in a rush of heat and confusion. Seiji was too close to me, but I didn’t want him further away—I wanted him closer. I exhaled, hard and loud like I’d been holding my breath, and I felt my shoulders tremble. The feeling in my chest contracted. The words were too small for everything they meant, but I said them anyway. “I remember.”

“I bet you do.” Seiji snarled, thrusting me back against the wall and shaking his hands like touching me had dirtied them somehow. “I bet you do.”

Then, I watched his eyes boil over with furious tears, and he turned away from me to rip a cigarette raggedly out of its case. Shoving it in his mouth, he kept talking without pause, “I’ve never fucking forgotten it. Not a single day has gone by that I haven’t had to remember that week. That stupid week when you ruined my life. If we’d never gone to Okinawa, if you’d never gone to the police, things wouldn’t be this way. I wouldn’t be—”

He seemed to catch on to what he was saying then, and sucked deeply on the cigarette to stop himself saying anything more. I felt acutely like I understood that much, even if I didn’t understand anything else.

I crept forward, trying to ignore the phantom twinge of pain along my inner forearm. Where Seiji had cut into me, during that week, like something out of a nightmare. There wasn’t even a scar any more. I reached out to touch Seiji’s shoulder and for a second, he let me. We stood that way, a gulf between us much wider than the meter separating us, until I whispered the only thing I could think to say, “Seiji, I’m sorry.”

Seiji’s palm crashed into my face. The sound of his slap echoed through the alley, then quiet followed in its wake. Even the distant traffic seemed to go silent while he ground out the words. “I hate you, Daichi. Get the fuck out of my life.”

And like a knight who’d fallen to the dragon, leaving the princess trapped in the tower, I ran away to save my sorry skin.


	5. Chapter 5

I could have gone back to work for the rest of the afternoon. I probably should have—it might have taken my mind off things. But in the aftermath of my encounter with Seiji, I was on autopilot. I didn’t think about anything; I just ran back to the station and leapt onto the first train heading towards home. With all the dark images I had whirling around inside me, the thought of going back to the school didn’t even occur to me.

The first thing I did when I got into my apartment was lock the door, strip off my clothes, and go sit in my shower. I tried to sink into the hot water and forget, but all I could think about was Okinawa. Was Seiji.

My memories played out before me like a film I was rewatching. It didn’t linger on the things like taking my blood or hammering a nail through my hand; I’d watched Seiji in those moments, after all, more than I’d watched what was actually happening to me. Watched Seiji calmly, coolly, carefully measure out the safest place to harm me and do as little damage to me as possible while we fulfilled the requirements of that stupid, crazy room.

Where it lingered was on the way I’d fucked Seiji, over and over again.

In my ears, I could hear him growing increasingly more desperate as he gasped and moaned and whimpered my name. I could hear the steady buzz of the vibrator inside his ass and the pair of clamps attached to his sensitive nipples. I could see the way his body twisted and writhed and arched towards my attention, urging me to go deeper and harder and faster. I could feel the heat of his cock in my hand, its smooth skin responding to my palm’s quick strokes and squeezes. I could hear the slick squish of my dick thrusting in and out of his hole, tighter and hotter than any girl had ever been.

But I wasn’t thinking about girls. I was thinking about Seiji, and I was hard, halfway through jerking myself off.

The realisation made my stomach flip, and a sick feeling rushed up in the back of my throat. I crumbled down onto my knees, tearing my hand away from my traitor arousal, and pressed my forehead into the tiles as the shower sprayed against my back. I tried to push the images away. I watched water swirl around the plughole and disappear, just like how—just the thought of _that_ memory was too much for me, and I coughed as vomit burned up into my mouth and nose.

I tried to tell myself it was the acidic smell that made my eyes water, but I knew the real reason.

I got dressed like usual the next morning. I went to the school like usual the next morning. It wasn’t one of the days when kids from summer club visited the school, so it was quiet when I settled behind my desk—that was a little usual, too. When I turned on my computer, though, my mind went blank.

I’d been telling myself I’d recovered from what happened to me and Seiji in Okinawa all those summers ago, but maybe all I’d really been doing was ignoring it. Pretending it hadn’t happened. Remembering the Seiji who had gotten me through everything, instead of acknowledging the Seiji I’d had to hurt to survive that week.

It made _sense_. Who would want to remember raping their best friend over and over because some gross lunatics made him do it? Who would want to remember that last time, when I’d helped Seiji deal with the worst of the aphrodisiac, so we could go to sleep and then finally escape together? Who would want to remember the disbelieving look on his face when I’d insisted I was going to tell the police?

Who would want to remember that they hadn’t done anything well enough to actually help their friend through the worst experience of their life?

… And there I was doing it again, assuming these things about Seiji when I hadn’t even asked. I hoped not, but maybe worse things had happened to him since then.

If there was anything I was sure of, it was the fact that I couldn’t leave things like this. Not this time. I was going to talk to Seiji, properly, and more than that, I was going to listen to him, too.

I switched off my computer, letting my decisiveness take me to the office. Imai wasn’t in today, but that was normal, and it made me glad, because I was about to do something I knew was wrong. I was doing it for the right reasons, so that made it a little bit better to me, but at least this way, no one would be watching me or calling me out on it. I used Imai’s computer to look up Midai and Seiji’s address—it turned out to be in an apartment complex within walking distance of the school.

This time, it was a measured and conscious decision to go to see Seiji. I walked up to the building just as someone was leaving, and waved a thank you to them as I slipped through the security door and they went on their way. As I made my way up the stairs, I thought it looked like an older building than mine, but it was in a pretty safe neighbourhood. It made me wonder all the more about Seiji’s situation… and I had to stop myself going any further than wondering, making myself cling to the resolve of actually asking and listening instead of assuming so much all the time.

I lingered outside his door for a couple of minutes before I got up the nerve to knock. The last thing Seiji had done was tell me to get the fuck out of his life—it wouldn’t have been unreasonable for him to ignore me, or send me away without giving me a chance to apologise again. I just had to hope he was willing to give me another chance. I wasn’t sure if I really deserved it, but I wanted to.

I knocked and waited. Waited a little more. Just when I thought I might knock again—I might have been being a little impatient—the door opened. Seiji’s eyes raked me over and then he sighed loudly, asking with clear displeasure in his tone. “What are you doing here?”

I probably should have practiced this part. I felt myself frown as difficult feelings coursed through my chest again, and the only choice I felt like I had was to bow, deeply and properly, speaking softly, “I really want to apologise, Seiji. I want to talk to you. Please.”

Midai chose that moment to appear next to her father’s legs, asking brightly, “What is Mr Kobayashi doing here, daddy?” Less than a second passed before she looked stricken, “Am I in trouble? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, not at all.” I saw Seiji crouch down and pat her on the shoulder as I straightened up. “Mr Kobayashi and I were actually friends when we were in school, like you and Yufumi are. He’s come to see me, and it’s not about you, okay?” He waited until Midai nodded before standing up again, gesturing for me to move out of the way while he instructed her to put her shoes on.

Midai dutifully sat down to pull them on before seeming to remember something; she stood and bolted out of sight for a moment before returning with a book. Standing next to the doorway, I heard Seiji’s voice down the hall, politely asking a neighbour if she could have Midai over for an hour or two while he caught up with a surprise visit from an old school friend. I tried not to let the words mean anything to me, even though my heart wanted to leap with excitement—he was just making an explanation for his neighbour.

Midai dipped her head to me as she went by to join him, bowing to the neighbour before stepping inside with her book. It didn’t seem like it was that unusual for her to go over there… when Seiji came back, he sighed again, waving, “You should come in.”

So that was the first step done. As the apartment door closed behind me, I slid my shoes off and tried not to study the inside of Seiji’s apartment with too much attention. It seemed like a good sized space, with a neat and tidy entranceway and a kitchen with only a few dishes sitting beside the sink. Seiji led me through to the table and indicated that I should sit with my back to the rest of the apartment; I looked over my shoulder and asked the lamest question, “Is it just the two of you?”

Seiji blinked at me a couple of times before leaning back with a short, bare laugh. “Well my ex-wife isn’t here if that’s what you mean. She visits Midai on the weekends, though.”

“Are you two getting along better?” Ack, no, that was too familiar again, wasn’t it?

Seiji’s expression narrowed, confirming my fears. “What do you want, Daichi?”

I didn’t like the way my name sounded in his mouth now. Actually, I didn’t like anything about this, but maybe that was kind of the point. I looked down at my hands, folded together on the table. If I squinted, I could imagine there was still a little red dot of a scar from where Seiji had hammered a nail through my hand. I wondered if he could see one, too, even though it had long since faded from view.

I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Seiji. You did so much to get us both through what happened in Okinawa, and I abandoned you at the end. I didn’t listen to you at all, I just thought that surely the police would be able to help us and I ignored what you were trying to tell me. I’ve been thinking about it”—only since the previous day, but it had kept me up late, so I’d done _a lot_ of thinking—“and I’m really sorry. It was wrong of me. I was a bad friend and I just hope you can forgive me.”

The last words made me choke up a little, tears welling in the corners of my eyes. My chest was hurting again, like someone had punched their first right through my ribcage, but I kept it together, breathing carefully.

Seiji stared at me for a long while, then uncrossed his legs and stood up, offering only a few words as explanation, “I need a smoke.”

It made me look around, wondering why he didn’t have them on hand. When I’d seen him before, he’d always had a cigarette in his mouth…

He came back before I could finish formulating my bewildered question, holding the lighter in his hand and observing it as he said, “I don’t usually smoke at home.”

“How come?”

“A bunch of reasons. Umika didn’t like it.” I guessed that was his ex-wife. Seiji flicked the lighter and lit his cigarette, inhaling it slowly. “It isn’t good for Midai. And I don’t need to.” At that moment he realised he didn’t have anything to serve as an ashtray and stood up again, taking a plate with crumbs on it from beside the sink.

Feeling very small and uncertain but still dedicated to my decision to listen, I asked, “What do you mean you don’t need to?”

Seiji gave me another long look. His expression went from firm and serious, with darkness in his eyes, to softer and easier, as he let the cigarette linger on the plate. “Seeing you stresses me out. When I remember things about Okinawa, I need a smoke to calm down. It’s a double-edged sword, because smoking reminds me of being trapped in that room.” He closed his eyes, and I could tell the images were replaying for him like they had for me in the shower. I wondered which ones were taunting him. “But it also reminds me that I can just go down to any convenience store, and buy a pack of the kind I prefer. Whenever I get a new box, I smoke one right away, just to prove to myself that I can waste them and I don’t have to ration them for when I need them.”

Seiji’s voice hesitated right before he said ‘need’, but I didn’t draw attention to it. Instead, I offered something that I hoped would show my understanding, “It must have been a big surprise when I turned out to be Midai’s teacher.”

“It’s why I didn’t answer your emails, and why I had to just show up. I didn’t want Midai’s education to suffer because of the differences between me and Umika, or because I was afraid to see you again. It happened… pretty much exactly the way I expected it to.”

I guess that meant I’d disappointed him, by living down to his expectations? He lifted the cigarette to his lips and laughed a little, gently, “I can’t believe you were just pretending it didn’t happen. That hurt, Daichi. It hurt a lot.”

“I didn’t really know I was doing it.” I said it not to argue with Seiji, but to apologise. I thought about throwing up in the shower after seeing Seiji, and looked down at the table surface again. “Seeing you like that yesterday actually made me realise I hadn’t dealt with it as much as I thought I had. I hadn’t dealt with it at all. I was just holding onto us from before then, pretending like that was all that mattered, and using that to motivate myself.”

Seiji smoked some more, staying silent.

Hesitantly, I started again, “Can I ask you something?” He raised his eyebrows in my direction, but nodded, so I steeled myself and said the words, “Why do you do that? Sex things for money? Are you in trouble?”

Seiji’s expression darkened and his reply was cold. “Are you asking so you can save me?”

“No, no!” I raised my hands, shaking my head at the same time, “I’m really asking. Because I want to try to understand. What happened to me… was a lot different to what happened to you, in Okinawa. I thought maybe that was why.”

“I guess.” Seiji shrugged, gazing away from me towards the warm yellow sunlight streaming in through the balcony window. “Umika and I, we got married very quickly. I got into debt early on, mostly because I couldn’t hold onto a good job. All of them had some storage room or enclosed space that made me feel trapped, or someone would say something that made me think they _knew_ what had happened to me.”

I noticed that he didn’t say ‘us’, but I was okay with it, because this was Seiji’s side of the story.

“When Umika got pregnant and we needed to settle down somewhere, I knew I had to have a job I couldn’t run away from. And this seemed like the easiest thing to do. I make Nagatsuka a lot of money, so he’s pretty fair with me. I’ve paid off my debts now and I’ve been trying to make my way out of the business. I’ve been going to a business’s interning classes in the afternoons and working nights to get by. Umika wants Midai with her so I’ve been fighting her back on that. She won’t turn me in because she doesn’t want to be associated with the shame of it. She doesn’t even know what happened to me in Okinawa. It’s been a lot.” Seiji blew out a long stream of smoke, repeating. “It’s been a lot.”

It really put into perspective how long it had been since we’d seen each other, or talked. “I’m sorry I burst in without knowing what was going on. I think… I think I thought I really wanted to help you, but maybe I just wanted to help myself. To make me feel like yeah, look at me, all that stupid shit in Okinawa hasn’t affected me at all!” I heard myself raising my voice, and made myself dial it back, even though I could see a little smile lifting up the corner of Seiji’s mouth. “It would be nicer if it hadn’t, but I guess both of us are a little messed up now, huh?”

Seiji laughed, smudging out the cigarette on the table. His laughter sounded lighter now, like it was real instead of something fake or put-on. “Guess we are, Daichi. But you know…” He tilted his head in my direction, smiling. I thought I could see a little of the summer reflected in his grey eyes, “It’s been good to see you again, too. And good to talk to you. I’m glad I got the chance to tell you off. It’s been eating at me. I feel better now.”

Seiji… I nodded once, firmly, smiling. The pain in my heart was easing away, too, because no matter what, I still loved Seiji. I loved him despite everything, because of everything, even though everything wasn’t that great. I would always love Seiji, and I was glad he’d given me the chance to do it again. Maybe I’d make more mistakes about it, and maybe I’d upset him more. But that was okay, because it’d be real.

Maybe I should have said something else. But based on the light that stirred to life in his eyes when I said what I did, I thought that maybe it was just the right thing to say after all. “Hey, Seiji. Wanna have a beer with me sometime?”


	6. Bonus Chapter (Alternate Ending)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the spirit of Room No. 9 and its plethora of bad endings, here is a bad ending for you. ♥ This entirely optional and non-canonical chapter is highly smutty. Please enjoy.

A bolt like electricity went through me when I touched Seiji’s bare skin.

Everything from Okinawa flooded back to me in a rush.

In my ears, I could hear him growing increasingly more desperate as he gasped and moaned and whimpered my name. I could hear the steady buzz of the vibrator inside his ass and the pair of clamps attached to his sensitive nipples. I could see the way his body twisted and writhed and arched towards my attention, urging me to go deeper and harder and faster. I could feel the heat of his cock in my hand, its smooth skin responding to my palm’s quick strokes and squeezes. I could hear the slick squish of my dick thrusting in and out of his hole, tighter and hotter than any girl had ever been.

And here he was, kneeling in front of me, just like we’d never left that place. Sure, he was facing away from me, and another man’s cock was basically in his mouth, but other than that, it all felt exactly the same. I rubbed my thumb into the warm skin on his shoulder, and gave the other man a smile that honestly felt pretty lurid. “Sorry. Just couldn’t wait to get started.”

Seiji’s client laughed, low and sympathetic, and jangled the chain of Seiji’s collar, “That’s understandable. Seiji here is the best in the business.” He indicated the seat next to him, and I joined him, making sure to put enough distance between us that our knees weren’t touching.

It gave me great purchase to see the expression on Seiji’s face as he resumed his work, murmuring down the length of the man’s dick, “Suwabe, you flatter me.”

It’s not something that should have made me aroused, but it did. I watched Seiji’s eyes flutter closed as he breathed on the tip of Suwabe’s cock before taking the head in his mouth. I heard more than saw Suwabe settle back into relaxed contentment as Seiji started to bob up and down. I watched Seiji working, the muscles in his jaw clenching and unclenching as saliva started to seep out at the corners of his lips, and became increasingly more aware of tingling attention in my balls and dick.

I didn’t think about it. I just let my hand fall into my lap and started smoothing it over my cock, giving it a little of the attention it craved.

Like he knew somehow, Seiji’s eyes darted open for a moment and met mine; it looked like he smiled around Suwabe’s dick before he brought his attention back to what he was doing. He descended slowly, holding my gaze as he did, then ascended. I imagined the heat of his mouth around me, and felt my cock get even stiffer. I guess I knew the answer to my question now—Seiji did remember. What happened in Okinawa… at least part of it had been good.

Suwabe’s breath became harder and louder as Seiji continued, and I pushed my zip down to loosen the pressure. For some reason, I didn’t want anyone but Seiji touching my dick. Even my own hands weren’t good enough right now.

Seiji loosened his lips as he plunged Suwabe’s cock into the back of his throat and hummed; it made Suwabe give a throaty growl. Seiji stayed there, then, and Suwabe’s dick must have been deep enough in his throat to choke him, but you wouldn’t realise it, because Seiji didn’t struggle at all. Seiji reached up with his hands—I remembered how smooth and supple they were, and my mouth went dry thinking about it—to stroke the underside of Suwabe’s balls. The result was practically instant: it was just like Seiji had fired a gun. One second, he was tickling the base of Suwabe’s balls, and the next, he was spluttering around a mouthful of come that was dripping down his chin.

Suwabe held Seiji’s head in place until he finished, and I tried to make sure it didn’t look like I was staring. Suwabe patted Seiji on the cheek as he withdrew himself and wiped his cock and trousers down with a hand towel. Without looking at me, Suwabe grunted, “Bit more exciting than usual with an audience, wouldn’t you say, Seiji?”

Seiji only smiled, lifting his chin as though to indicate the collar. Suwabe grinned as he unfastened it, letting it fall to the carpet under Seiji’s knees. He arranged himself in his trousers and prepared to leave before he looked at me, nodding affirmation, “You get what you pay for with this one. Enjoy.”

After that, it was just Seiji and me. Well, and whoever that guy who let me in here was, but he’d stayed on the other side of the curtain, so he might as well have been on another planet for all I cared. Seiji turned to me, now, shuffling forward on his knees to place his hands on my thighs. My erection was looking pretty serious now, even though it was still in my underwear. With a little smirk that sent heat straight thought me, Seiji indicated it, “You’re all raring to go, Daichi~”

I heard the rhythm of laughter in my response, even though I was sure I wasn’t laughing. My breath came out heavily. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it, Seiji?”

“Don’t worry.” He said it softly, easing my dick free and running his thumb up the lower side of it. “I still remember everything.”

The words made my skin hot and prickly all over, but I didn’t have time to think about anything, because Seiji’s mouth was wrapped around my cock, and I forgot everything else. Heat and wetness enveloped me, hotter than my own hands could ever be, and I tilted my head back on the sofa, digging my fingers into Seiji’s bare shoulders. His fingers stroked my taint, my balls—his tongue slid up and down my shaft while he made me thrust in and out of his mouth.

I didn’t know how long I would last like this. Those days, I jerked myself off at least once a week but it had been actual years since I’d had sex with another person. And having sex with Seiji again… just the idea made me groan loudly, and I leaned forward, easing myself out of his attention. When his hard grey eyes met mine, I made my request, “Let me fuck you, Seiji.”

Seiji stayed still for a moment before standing up. I could see his own dick was mostly soft between his legs and that just wasn’t good enough for me. Ignoring my own weeping boner for a moment, I moved forward on the couch to put my mouth next to his dick. The strong smell almost put me off, like it once had back then, but I murmured my reason to myself before I kissed his length, “I wanna make you feel good.”

“Daichi…” Seiji’s voice sounded far away, somewhere beyond me. I was in a haze of lust and need, and I grabbed hold of his cock with my hand, rubbing it firmly. Seiji didn’t make any noise, but I stayed focused, eventually letting one hand slid up his side towards one of his nipples. They’d always been so sensitive, it was something I didn’t think I’d ever forget. I slid my fingers back and forth over it until it puckered under my attention; then I pinched it a little, and I heard Seiji’s breath catch on a high note in the back of his throat. It was just like I remembered. It sounded just like that.

Abandoning my grip on his cock, I let my other hand skim around behind him, squeezing into his ass before my fingers found their way to his hole. Seiji kneeled on the couch, with his knees between mine, to make it easier for me to explore. His asshole was dry as I touched it, but I thought it seemed responsive, pulsing gently as I probed into his entrance. Slipping the tip of finger inside was easy enough, and I heard Seiji make another noise when I did.

I couldn’t wait any longer. It felt like I’d been waiting my entire life to do this. I moved both my hands to his hips and urged him forward as I edged down the couch, getting my swaying erection into position. Even being left unattended for a few moments hadn’t dulled its strength, and I was glad, because I was so ready to do this. I pressed the tip of my dick into Seiji’s hole, willing myself to be patient and ease it inside. There was enough precome to make it work, definitely—I was so hard, and so horny.

The second Seiji’s hole enveloped me, I wanted to thrust right away. I was so ready, and he was so, so hot. I felt Seiji’s hands on my shoulders and I realised I’d been focusing so much on the place where our bodies met that I hadn’t looked at him in a while. He looked just like I remembered him, just like when I’d fucked him in Okinawa. Needy and desperate in the shower, begging for me to take him over and over until he was sated.

His voice reached my ears. “Do it, Daichi.”

I didn’t have to be asked twice. I pushed up or Seiji rode down but either way, my cock burrowed into him like it was meant to be there. I felt his hole gobble me up, almost like it was welcoming me back after a long time away. I couldn’t hear anything except my blood pounding in my ears, and I dug my fingers into Seiji’s hips as I started to thrust. I knew it was right, because it wasn’t as hard as it should have been without lube—Seiji’s body accepted mine willingly, and mine responded with worshipful attention.

Seiji’s knees seemed to buckle and he settled down low on my lap, which let me fuck him even deeper than I already was. My hips just wouldn’t stop moving. I’d never been ashamed of my size, but being inside Seiji made me wish my dick was even longer, just so it could reach further inside him. Our skin slapped together, his balls landing against me as he leaned forward against my chest, and I grasped his ass cheeks like I could split him apart and delve even deeper within. Seiji exhaled something against my earlobe, but all I felt was heat and warmth just like the rest of him. It was too much. It sent me over the edge.

I shuddered and moaned aloud as I came. The whole thing was over way too quickly. I guess, like Suwabe had said, it was more exciting with an audience—or in my case, it had been more exciting being the audience. Now, now…

Seiji slowly rose from his position, and my soft cock slid out of him alongside a rush of come that immediately started to slide down his legs. He bent over to retrieve the towel Suwabe had used (and he must have used it to wipe his face, too, right?) and wiped his thighs. I found myself slowly coming back to reality, full of a satisfaction I hadn’t know in… I couldn’t say how long it had been. But I felt a stupid smile creep across my face as I felt around in my pocket for a pack of tissues. I was lucky I even had any.

There wasn’t anywhere to go, but Seiji walked away from me to get himself a robe. I guessed he probably had another client coming after me, or soon? So I stood up, rubbing the hair on the back of my head. I was sure my face was red, and I felt like a teenager again. When I walked out of this room and back into the world, would everyone know I’d been here, doing my best friend? It felt like they’d have to. Like there was no way they wouldn’t know.

Tying the belt around his waist, Seiji turned to me. He’d put his glasses back on. I guess it made sense that he didn’t wear them while working on clients, but I hadn’t realised he wasn’t wearing them until now. His voice low and firm, he said quietly, “You should leave now, Daichi.”

I nodded. I probably… needed to head back to work. “Okay. Bye, Seiji.”

“Goodbye, Daichi.”

After that, I really never saw Seiji again.

When the summer holidays ended, I got advised that Midai had transferred out of our school, and no one could tell me where she’d gone.

Somehow, I’d lost Seiji all over again.


End file.
